


Switching Shells

by squishyturtlefuckfics



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Body Swap, Bodyswap, Donnie - Freeform, Gay, Horny, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other, Permanent Arousal, TMNT, don - Freeform, donatello - Freeform, needy, tcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyturtlefuckfics/pseuds/squishyturtlefuckfics
Summary: For Blackdragon-samaAn accident forces Donatello and Raphael to swap bodies, and Donatello is having trouble concentrating because of it...





	1. Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blackdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackdragon/gifts).



He has to focus.

His work is set out on his desk, machinery parts mixed with vials and tools. A long-forgotten coffee mug rests at the side, stained at the rim with now cold liquid. Donatello groans and runs his hands down his face, unable to find the familiar grooves of his cheeks. His face is so angular, the skin rough and scarred. His beak curves at the wrong place. 

Raphael's body was completely different from his own.

He rubs his nose, eyes blurring on the formulae before him. He'd told Raph to stay out of his lab, but that meathead just couldn't wait to lay into him about the broken Xbox. He hadn't seen the wire, nor had the reactions to avoid smashing into his gear. Boom. Bang. Now Donatello had an ex-pet stalker, and Raph had the body of a caffeine-addicted string bean.

Just a normal Sunday night.

He wrinkles his beak, blinking the fuzz from Raphael's eyes. This should be easy. This should be simple to fix.

He has to focus.

Eyes fixed, nose to his papers, Donatello presses on. He had this. Simple sums and equations. The solution was obvious, but the work would be tedious. It would take time, but as long as he had the space he could do it. The lab door was sealed shut. His brothers couldn't disturb him until he unlocked it. He'd be fine. He'd manage.

His body is  _ burning _ .

He shifts in his seat. It's uncomfortable. The leather rubs against his skin all wrong. He'd never had that issue before... Should he fix it? Find a new chair? Was there time? Did he have another one? 

No. He scolds himself. Focus.  _ Focus _ .

That burning spreads. Down his limbs, into his chest and seeping into his stomach. Donatello shudders, fidgeting against the seat. His pencil twitches in his fingers. His loins twitch.

This was new.

Ignore it. Just ignore it. Raphael's body was weird. It was uncomfortable, and the sooner he got out of it the better.

He just had to focus.

That part would go there. Yeah, that sounded about right. He'd connect it with this, and he and Raphael would both have to ingest the liquid. Donatello glances over at the bubbling beaker. Would Raphael ever drink that? 

His mind hangs on that thought. Donatello's gone stiff, and that heat is leaking. Down... Down… Dribbling like raindrops on a window.

And then it  **explodes** .

It's like an internal bomb. Donatello's breath tightens as his body grows warmer and warmer. Everything is hot to the point of discomfort, and it's quickly infuriating. What the hell was this?

The aftermath of the implosion remains. Donatello's slit flares at the base of his plastron, a surge of arousal so sudden it's almost painful. He forces himself to ignore it. Just finish the damn project, Donatello!

His cock springs out and Donatello doesn't even need to touch it before it's rock hard. He whines, scowling as his body thrums with heat. His usual dormant sex-drive had been kicked into high gear. Donatello had never felt so aroused in his life.

Ignore it...

Just... ignore it.

He pulls himself closer to the desk, trying to hide Raphael's thick cock from his sight, but his fingers are trembling against the desk. Even when he moves to pick up his ruler he finds it impossible to hold, and staring back down at his plans he finds it equally impossible to make any sense of them. He can't focus. He can't ignore it.

The seat gives a harsh squeak as he reclines, and his erection stares up at him triumphantly. Donatello is shaking all over as he reaches down to touch it-- to touch Raphael's cock. His heart throbs, ice tickling his veins. This feels wrong. Doing this in Raphael's body had to be against some kind of inter-dimensional law or something, right? 

It doesn't matter at this point. He can't concentrate like this: like a beast in heat.

Fuck it.

Pleasure spikes through him the moment he touches it. Donatello cries out, stifling himself with his other hand against his mouth. Raphael's cock aches in his hand, hot and hard and desperate for more. 

He takes it slow, rubbing and stroking. Just enough that his toes curl. Just enough that his stomach bubbles and burns with need. He builds up his speed steadily, but it's more from being unable to hold it off any longer. It's like being trapped in an oven full of feathers that bristle against his skin. 

There's nothing arousing in his mind. No porn. Raphael's body doesn't need that kind of stimulation. He's already ramping up towards his climax, working his dick at an absolutely brutal pace now. His tail thrashes against the seat of his chair, and Donatello can't shake the hollow burning coming from back there. Raphael needed to be railed.

Faster... Faster... His claws dig into his beak. F-Fuck he was so desperate!

It doesn't take long for his body to collapse. He throws his head back and screams into his hand, rope after rope of warm cum coating his shell and hand. It almost doesn't seem to stop, like Raphael's body doesn't have an off switch, and the subsequent recovery down is just as drawn out. Donatello's fingers buzz, his thoughts are still hazy and fuzzy, and his body just won't move after the intense orgasm his brain isn't accustomed to.

His cock is still hard as he pulls himself back to the desk, fingers drumming against it as he tries to force his mind into gear. He just had to focus. He just had to ignore it. Ignore Raphael's freaky body. Ignore his stupid sex-drive. Ignore the burning heat and the aching need to get fucked. How the hell did Raphael manage to get anything done?

Just ignore it. 

_ Focus _ .

His loins tingle. Donatello's cheeks flush, his heart sinking as he reaches for his cock.

This was gonna take a while.

  
  



	2. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo takes advantage of this new development...

The doors to the lab are locked. Machines hum and whirr, forgotten projects lay motionless and quiet, and the lights flicker until they sputter and fizz and turn dim. He hadn't looked at them. Hadn't had a chance. Hadn't had a chance to do _anything_.

Donatello lies tense in his chair, shifting to support the weight atop of him: the slender legs wrapped around his waist and the strong hands gripping. A weight he should have been used to holding, yet like everything else it’s totally alien in Raphael's body.

The world is spinning, vision doubling and weaving, and yet Michelangelo doesn't rest.

"Donnie..." Donnie takes in a shuddering breath, craning his neck to the side as Mikey preses his beak to it. The touch is gentle, but the tongue that follows is rough and hot. Still hungry for more. More and more and more.

"Donnie..."

Teeth next: clamping down on his flesh. Donnie groans as Mikey nibbles his way down to the shoulder, rocking his head back toward his cluttered desk, his cock aching inside of his brother. F-Fuck... He’s so tender there now.

A different sensation-- Mikey's moving again, rocking his body up and down, and Donnie bites back his cry. It's so nice. It's so f-fucking nice. He never knew this could feel so good.

It's... It's not enough.

Mikey stops him when he tries to move, snatching his arms and driving them back to the chair as if he'd been waiting for it. It's met with a rumbling growl and struggling: Donnie is scowling and lashing out before he realises it, only stopping due to the wide-eyed gape Mikey's giving him.

He wavers when it stretches into a grin.

"Woah, cowboy," Mikey chides, releasing his arms and instead taking his face in his hands. Stunned by his sudden display, it takes Donnie a few moments to grasp the opportunity and clamp his hands around his brother's waist, though Mikey ignores it.

"Since when did our resident doormat get so feisty, huh?" He rubs his thumbs into Donnie's cheeks, and Donnie has to bite back his growl this time as his brother pulls their faces together. He didn't need this. Fuck he didn't need this. He had so much work to do, but Mikey carries on anyway. "Looks like a lil' bit of Raph is rubbing off on you..."

Donnie's scowl deepens as Mikey squishes their beaks together.

"Y'know... Raph's been bulking you up, D." Mikey says it like it's normal. Like the idea of a body swap is an everyday occurance. "I mean-- you needed it, right? Plus I think he likes being taller. Certainly has Leo's dick’s attention anyway--"

"Are you gonna ride me or what?" he snaps, tugging meaningfully at Mikey's waist like an impatient puppy wanting to play. “I’m _busy_.”

Mikey smirks, raising his body up an inch, and Donnie's cock claws at the friction. God it was good, but it's too slow. He needs Mikey to move faster.

"Again? Mm..." Mikey nuzzles their snouts as he slowly descends, rising and falling a few more times after that. "Someone's a needy boy, huh?"

F-Fuuuck!

Mikey chuckles as his waist is pulled at again, clearly understanding the hint. “Besides, the only thing you’ve been ‘busy’ with is my butt. ‘Cept the times I’ve been busy with yours, of course.”

“Just—” Donnie scrunches his beak up, fighting the urge to avert his gaze. “Just fucking ride me already!”

Mikey beams.

"Four times and counting, then!"

There's a drop in his stomach as Mikey propels himself upward, and then a sharp knot as he plummets back down. Donnie bites his lip, throwing his head back as far as possible, just barely missing his worktop. Up, down, up down.

"A-Aah fuck... F-Faster..." The words come without thought, but Mikey follows them all the same, releasing his hands from Donnie's face and securing them on both his shoulders. Mikey speeds up, rocketing straight into a full blown assault, pushing himself by using Donnie's muscly body as leverage. Up and down and up and down.

Donnie’s tightens his grip, claws nipping at skin, knuckles turning stark white. He whines and cries and growls all at once, staring helplessly at the old stone of the ceiling through hooded eyes, nerves sparking and then burning. O-Oh fuck... Fuuuuck yes.

"Ngh... Fuck, D," Mikey says, digging his own claws into Donnie's shoulders. Donnie can't see it, but he knows his brother's face is a fiery red and that his eyes are heavily hooded. He's pushing himself so hard, desperate to get him off again.

B-But...

F-Fuck... Fuck!

"F-Faster!" Donnie growls, trying to ram himself upwards. More. He just needed more friction! Fuuuck! Fuck this-- This fucking body! "M-Mikey I-- F-Fuck, faster!"

He gets a grunt in response, stomach tightening as Mikey pushes himself even harder. His whining gets louder and louder, laced between the cries of his name, and it only lasts a few more moments before Mikey comes over his chest, spurts roping up to his neck and face. Donnie steels himself for his own release, forcing Mikey's body to move once the pace falters. Not yet! N-Not fucking yet!

S-So--

His mind blanks, nerves exploding, and reflex completely takes over. His arm flings itself backwards, hand smashing and claws scraping at his desk just— just trying to find some purchase. Anything. F-Fuck… Fuck!

Another jolt. His stomach flips and that arm drives itself along the worktop, sending all of his long-forgotten progress smashing to the ground. He barely notices though. Doesn’t care. His body tenses, muscles going stiff.

\--Close!

Wrinkling his nose, Donnie cries out as he finally spills over the limit, cock spasming as he comes inside his brother. There's barely a moment’s worth of breathing room before Mikey collapses on top of him, and Donnie snatches him up into a burning kiss. It's like instinct, ravaging his brother’s mouth like an animal in heat, so out-of-character for him, but he's not fighting the urges. Feels too good.

"Y-Y'know..." Mikey says, breathless as he pulls away, gaze smoldering. "Mm... Think I like this better... You're much more fun in Raph's body."

It takes a moment for Donnie to compute that, brain scrambling to cook up a suitable response. It's a weird soup of dismissal, excitement, and sudden anger that wouldn't normally be present. Alien to his mind, but perhaps not to this body. Worrying? Possibly. The long term effects could be... _troubling_.

He settles with a simple "Shut up", met with a wide grin from his brother. He'd figure this whole thing out, find a way to switch back. He just needed some privacy.

"Maybe I should just start calling you 'Raph' from now on..." Mikey chides as he gently pulls himself off, leaving Donnie's still-erect penis bobbing and twitching. His grin widens when Donnie gives him a scowl, and Mikey presses a finger against his nose playfully. "Suits your face, anyway!"

"Can it, Mikey." He swipes his brother’s hand away and heaves himself upwards. It takes a moment: he's aching all over and he's still not totally used to Raphael's smaller, bulkier frame. He sighs as he glances to the shattered glass on the floor. All that work down the drain. "Help me clean up this mess before we go for a shower."

Giving him a knowing look, Mikey crawls back over him, and Donnie croaks as his brother wraps his hand around his dick.

"Sure, _Raph_ ," he husks, lapping at the sticky cum on his face, "but which one?"


	3. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello finally manages to satisfy his body, but he has to work fast...

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Donatello turns to his brother, a pensive look on his face. This was his last idea, save from asking Raph directly. Ever since they’d swapped bodies he’d found it near impossible to concentrate. There was always a burning need deep in the pit of his stomach, clawing and snarling to get out, begging for more. Always begging. Always  _ desperate _ .

He glances down at his erection, already aching hard, and scowls at it like it’s a misbehaving puppy. It wasn’t enough to jerk himself off. It wasn’t enough for Mikey to ride him, or even for Mikey to fuck him. Raph’s body needed something else. Something more focused. Something it was familiar with. He sighs. Looks back to his brother.

Leonardo returns his gaze, Raphael’s bed creaking beneath them as he turns toward him. The struggle in his eyes is obvious. Had he been like that with Raph? Mikey didn’t seem to have an issue with it, but Leo… The situation with their bodies was complicated, to say the least.

Still no reply.

“If it helps— you can just think of me as Raph.” Donnie cuts in a bit too quickly, a bit too eagerly.

Finally, and with a gentle sigh, Leo replies.

"If you think it'll help you, sure."

Okay. Donnie swallows, drumming his fingers against his legs. Good enough.

"Then… I'm ready," Donnie says with a gentle nod, welcoming his brother closer. 

Again the bed creaks as Leo moves. It smells a lot like Raph, like sweat and musk. Donatello crinkles his nose, already missing the pleasant scent of cherry and books of his own bedroom. It'd been Raph's idea to swap rooms in the first place, but this was the first time Don had really stepped foot in it. He'd confined himself to the lab for so long trying to work on a cure, but Raph’s body has stopped him at every turn.

Carefully, Leo shimmies toward him, and there's a moment’s pause where they just stare at each other, Leo’s eyes raking all over his body before settling back on his face. Second thoughts? He hoped not. He needed Leo to do this for him.

“Just—” Leo begins, and Donnie can’t help but gasp as he leans in, nuzzling into his neck, “think of a better pick up line than  _ ‘I want you to fuck me’ _ next time.”

Donnie's cheeks burn red, but the kiss to his skin wrestles his attention back. Leo's lips are soft, and yet as he pulls away there's a hint of teeth against his neck. Just a gentle scraping over his flesh, but to Don it feels like a thousand volts. Shuddering, Donatello tenses as Leo draws back, nose-to-nose with him, and Leo smirks at his reaction. His eyes shimmer as he speaks.

“Raph’s ticklish there.”

Leo seals their lips before Don can think of a reply, pulling him into a warm kiss. Don allows it without incident.

A hand on his chest, Leo pushes him down onto the bed, eyes hooded and fixed on him as his head sinks into the pillow. Leo shifts forward and lines himself up between his legs, stroking his cock to full mast. Donnie watches his face flicker again, hesitation to need and back and forth, before he finally urges himself forward.

It's a gentle, easy push — Donatello had already prepared himself earlier. He moans, nostrils flaring as Leonardo fills him, stretching his body. It's nice. Warm. His stomach flutters as Leo hilts and Don whines, sucking in a shuddering breath as that familiar haze of need rolls over him.

Leonardo tenses above him. “You okay?”

"Yeah," Donnie replies slowly. Leo was new to him, at least in his own body, but Raph’s is accustomed to it. Already there’s an itch begging to be scratched, an itch that Donnie knows his body is begging Leo to satisfy. "'m good."

"Okay." Leo's breathing is slow and careful, and Donatello catches him staring at him as he starts to move, pushing and pulling in and out nice and gentle.

Too gentle.

Already it's not enough. It feels good, feels great, but Donatello needs more. The itch is burning. Howling. Squirming, Donatello squeezes his eyes shut, muttering and spitting at his brother. This isn’t enough.

"Faster."

Leo complies wordlessly, speeding up. Still controlled. Donatello bites his lip. Whines.

_ Still not enough _ .

“Faster,” he repeats.

A pause. Silence.

Leo slams into him. 

Good. G-Good. Fuck that's… that's better. Donnie whines, pressing the back of his hand to his beak. Better… Ngh… fuck.

"Fuck." More whining, squirming. Donatello clenches the sheets beneath him. Then a grumbling roar: "F-Faster! Leo— Fuck! Hurry up!"

Slam. Slam. Slam slam slam! 

Aim slipping. Leonardo overshoots himself twice before finding his way back in.

_ Slam slam slam! _

Not—ngh!—  **enough** !

Moving. Cursing. Face red. Ramming himself against Leo’s crotch. Anything for more. Anything to make it faster.

Faster!

F-Fuck! Fast—

Nothing.

Leo stops. Donatello scowls at him, ready to scream bloody murder.

Leonardo swoops down onto him before he can, clenches his wrists, and pins them down onto the bed.

He sneers. Donatello chokes as the fight dies in his throat.

"This enough for you?" 

A sharp thrust. Leonardo rams into him all at once, and then again before he has a chance to recover.

Speechless as Leo pulls back. He looks at him with that cocky grin. Donatello swallows, wets his lips. 

_ Slam. _

_ Slam. _

**_Slam. Slam. Slam._ **

O-Oh.

"That—ngh—feel nice,  _ Raphie _ ?"

Leonardo leans down, pressing his nose to his neck. Then his tongue—  rough and wet against his skin. Donatello shudders as Leonardo’s voice drops to a whisper.

"Mm. You really are just like him now.” Sharp, yet gentle. Donatello can’t find his voice, and Leonardo smirks. “Needy. Impatient. Doesn’t sound like Donatello at all.”

A hand on his cock. Rubbing, stroking, making him tremble and whine.

“How about you _beg_ for it?”

He crinkles his nose, steaming from his ears, snarling:

“F-Fuck—nggah—off!”

Leonardo smirks, then squeezes his dick.

“ _ Good boy, Raphael." _

Donatello freezes solid.

"Raph," Leo continues, and Donatello moans as his brother pulls back to pick up speed again, cutting right to the brutal pace. Ram, ram, ram. The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes through the room, meshed with gentle purrs and strained whines. 

Leo’s expression is dripping with lust.

“ _ Raph.” _

Faster. Harder. Leonardo’s back against him, shifts his head, runs his break across Don's face, presses their snouts together. Donatello loses himself in his eyes, burning with a fiery passion.

His whines are silenced as Leonardo kisses him.

It’s wet and sloppy, Leonardo battering his mouth with his tongue. Thrashing to the left, to the right, up and down. Taking everything he wants. Anything he wants. Donatello’s snorts, Leo’s hands on his cheeks, and he finds himself doing the same to his brother, pulling him in tighter. His cock aches. More. More, more, more!

“Leo…” His voice is tight and strained between breaths, and cut short as Leo forces him back into the kiss. Leo presses harder for it, hungrier, practically ramming their faces together, and all the while he’s still fucking him. Still ramming into him and it’s so good. It’s so, so good. Better when he pulls back. Better when he slams and shoves and— 

_ Fuck.  _ This is what he’d been craving.

Tingling. Screaming. Voice hoarse as Leo shoves him over the edge. Even when he comes it doesn’t stop. Leo pushes for more, driving himself into a mindless rut before he finally climaxes. 

 

_ “Raph—” _

_ “Good boy—” _

_ “Raph— Fuck, Raph—” _

 

Donnie is numb by that point, face flushed a deep red, and his entire body is shaking, stained in his own fluids.

Holy  _ fuck _ .

He’s still trembling moments after as Leo helps him up, skin burning wherever it’s touched. Even after they’ve cleaned up, even after Don is safely locked back in his lab, he can still feel it. Leo’s touch. Leo’s voice. Leo inside him. How good it felt. He could hang onto that forever. 

He smacks his cheeks, rubs his beak and clears the mist from his eyes. 

He had work to do.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nose, Donatello turns his head down to his scattered papers. Jumbled, messy scratches. Distracted ideas. Senseless maths. The mess he’d salvaged after destroying it all. Donatello can see through them now.  _ Finally. _

But there’s a haze— a fog in his mind. Something that wasn’t there before. Something alien to him. It’s like… like it’s a little harder to understand this stuff. Harder than before...

Stop it.  _ Focus _ .

He swallows the hollow ache in his gut and presses into his work. 

The sooner he got a fix for this, the better.


End file.
